American Woman
by DamnTheMan
Summary: (Watch for language!) Stifler and Cadece breaks up because she thinks he doesnt understand girls. Stifler goes to a mysterious fortune reader and she turns him into a girl. Will Stifler and Cadence get back? RR
1. One

Stifler strode into the school with a tense look on his face. He and long time girlfriend Cadence broke up because she claimed he didn't know the first thing about girls. Hello! He was a master with the ladies, or was anyway until he met Cadence. But still, he didn't change enough. Maybe Jim could help him. Yeah, Jim. Jim was married and all; he must had done something right.  
  
"Good morning coach Stifler," a tall boy wearing a football jersey said as Stifler walked past him to the gym.  
  
"Not now Robinson," Stifler snapped back slamming the locker room door. No one was in it, which was good because no one saw him punch in one of the lockers and if no one saw that, he could easily blame it on some pathetic pussy that didn't have the guts to kill a fly. The office was empty so right away Stifler dug in his drawer for his address book his mother told him to keep. Right away he searched for Jim and Michelle. He found them in the back of the book, their phone number scribbled on a piece of napkin from the wedding. He hoped he would catch Jim before work. He dialed the numbers in carefully and held the phone to his ear.  
  
"Hello?" a woman answered. At first, Stifler was about to hang up. Then he realized it was only Michelle.  
  
"Michelle? Is Jim there?" he asked.  
  
"No, I'm afraid he just left. Who's calling?"  
  
"Its me, Stifler. Er-Steve," he said, knowing Cadence only referred to him as Steve to everyone.  
  
"Oh. Hi Stifler. I heard about you and Cadence," she said, a tad disappointed. Stifler began to rub the back of his neck nervously as the first period filled in.  
  
"Yeah, that's why I'm calling for Jim. I really need to talk to him and stuff. Listen; just tell him to call me at my old number. If he doesn't have it, then tell him I wrote it on the bottom of the mug I sent him last Christmas," Stifler said, feeling stupid that was the only way to keep in touch with Jim. Michelle let out a laugh.  
  
"Oh, we have it. Jim re-wrote it in an address book, just in case." He smiled. At least he wasn't the only dipshit with an address book.  
  
"Thanks," he said and hung up. There wasn't much else to say to her. Stifler sighed and dropped his address book back in the bottom of the drawer. He picked it up and held it, while wiping his pictures of Cadence off the desk and into the drawer. He slammed the drawer and placed his address book neatly in the corner of his desk, the smirked. "I'm such a dipshit," he laughed.  
  
*  
  
Stifler sat in the bleachers rubbing his hands together. For an early September night, it sure was cold. It was nearly dark. He wondered where Jim could possibly be. He was just about ready to leave when he saw Jim coming up the bleachers waving.  
  
"Stifler!" he called out, trying to job, but his cold body barely functioned.  
  
"Jim, how are ya fucker?" he asked hugging him. Jim stepped back a little and began to rub his hands much like Stifler was moments ago.  
  
"Good, good. Michelle's pregnant," he said with a smile. Stifler nudged him.  
  
"You little devil. Want to go somewhere warmer?" he asked heading for his car. Jim nodded and followed him. There was only one car in the lot. Stifler looked around for a mini van or some other car a married pussy would have. "Where's your car?" he asked. Jim shrugged.  
  
"Michelle dropped me off, I told her you would drive me home." Stifler unlocked his Bronco 4 X 4 and turned the heat on. The Bronco was old and beat up, and smelled sort of funny, but she ran good, and Stifler loved her.  
  
"Where should we go? My place?" Stifler asked pulling out of the school's parking lot. Jim shrugged.  
  
"Whatever. So what did you need to talk about? Something about Cadence I think," Jim said. Stifler turned a left.  
  
"Well, not so much about Cadence. But about girls in general. Okay, so I got laid more in high school and college more then you ever did," Stifler said with a laugh, "but, when I get ready to propose to one, they just go and break up with me because I don't get girls. I mean, I just don't get what she's saying. How did you get Michelle to like you?" Jim coughed and moved in his seat uneasily.  
  
"Ah, well. It was kind of by accident. We really didn't want to be together. So I cant help you." Stifler hit his steering wheel.  
  
"Damn it. And I can't ask Oz, he and Heather moved off somewhere and Kevin dropped off the face of the Earth, and shitbreak is in love with my mother so he's no fucking good. Thank god my mom married that gasoline guy after your wedding, huh?" Jim shrugged.  
  
"I don't know how to help you Stifler. Maybe Finch can help you, but not on how to get a girl to like you or whatever, but like how to understand girls," Jim suggested. Stifler shrugged and pulled into his driveway. Jim got out of the car and stared at the house for a moment.  
  
"It's been a long time since I've been here," Jim said shoving his hands in his pockets. He changed to something he would wear back in high school. Stifler opened the door and looked around. True, it was his home. But for the past two years he had been living with Cadence, he had only moved back in that morning. Jim followed Stifler inside and sat on his couch.  
  
"Wouldn't it be pretty cool if we had a party here with all our old friends?" Stifler said turning on the kitchen light.  
  
"Yeah. How would we contact everyone though?" Jim said, really considering the idea. Stifler came back with two beers, tossing one to Jim.  
  
"I don't know. Seems kind of hard now that I think about it," Stifler said sitting on his couch. Jim looked at him. About four years ago, there would be a hundred people wandering the house. Stifler would be trying to get some poor girl drunk and bring her upstairs while he would standing there with Kevin and Oz, holding a red cup of beer in one hand with his other hand buried in his pocket. Stifler would walk around and be flat out rude and obnoxious to everyone in his path, but now he would probably be much more humane and actually complement people. To bad it was too late for all that.  
  
"I think you should call Finch. He knows a lot about all that intellectual crap. And he totally understands girls, he is like an adult you," Jim said, Stifler shrugged.  
  
"Shitbreak wouldn't come help me. The fucker hates my guts, plus I don't fancy him that much either," Stifler said. Jim could see Stifler become purple with rage. Jim picked up the phone and tossed it to Stifler.  
  
"He'll come if you tell him I'm here. He wont be too freaked out."  
  
"Whatever," Stifler said and dialed the number Jim told him to dial. "Hello? Shitbreak, or I mean, Finch?" 


	2. Two

"Hello gentlemen," Finch said to Jim and Stifler who were standing in the doorway.  
  
"Finch, it's been a while," Jim said hugging him. Stifler and Finch eyed each other before mildly shaking hands. Finch showed himself in and looked around the room.  
  
"It's been a while since I've been here," he said. Stifler nodded then showed him to the living room.  
  
"Right, but we have a much more serious problem here shitbreak! Cadence thinks I don't understand girls and she dumped me last night!" Finch began to cough, and then hit his chest.  
  
"You mean you actually stayed with her all this time?" he asked, amazed that Stifler could hold a girl for that long of a time. Stifler nodded.  
  
"Yeah, and I need your help!" Finch scratched his head, and lounged on the couch.  
  
"I told him you were into that kind of understanding people crap. Do you know what to do?" Finch thought, then nodded.  
  
"Indeed I do. I have a friend, she has a gift. You should go see her, she will help you out." Stifler was ready to do anything to get Cadence back. He thought he actually might love her, which was the first real love he'd ever have.  
  
"We have to go see her, tonight. I don't want Cadence to find anyone else, she is hot and all." Finch nodded and moved towards the door.  
  
"She lives nearby, we can go see her tonight. Lets go."  
  
*  
  
Stifler sat in the back of Finch's new Mercedes Benz. Jim sat in the front and well Finch drove. Soon they were in a part of town neither Jim nor Stifler had ever been too. Stifler had heard of it, some of the kids on the football team would bring their girlfriends here and try to scare them with stories of gypsies and psychics. Stifler began to wonder if Finch was just getting back at him after years of torture. Finally, they stopped in front of a gray painted house with lawn gnomes everywhere.  
  
"Here's Sylvia's place," he said turning the ignition off. Stifler got out and looked at the house.  
  
"Are you fucking nuts?" he said staring. Jim got out too.  
  
"Come on Stifler, I'm sure its really nice." He said, not so sure actually. Finch crossed his arms and tapped his foot.  
  
"Do you want help or not?" He said walking up the driveway. Jim jerked his head towards the house and followed Finch. Stifler sighed and walked up with them. Finch ran the doorbell exactly eleven times. Stifler guessed it was how weirdo's told each other they arrived. They stood for two minutes before the door opened. An old woman, defiantly in her 50's, answered. She eyed Jim and Stifler before smilingly widely at Finch.  
  
"Finch! Finch! Come in, come in. It's been to long." Sylvia said showing Finch in.  
  
"Don't forget my friends," Finch said pointing back. Sylvia stopped Stifler and Jim at the door and looked at them.  
  
"I sense someone here is not trustworthy," she sneered at Jim. Finch pulled her back.  
  
"Don't worry, its just Steven's stench." He said. Jim smiled and glided past Sylvia with ease. Sylvia still glared at Stifler.  
  
"Hello," he said with a genuinely fake smile. The woman sighed deeply and pursed her lips, as if trying to read his posture. Stifler put his hands in his pockets and smiled again. The woman turned sideways and opened her arms.  
  
"Well, come in," she snapped, as if he had been standing out there on purpose. He walked inside and eyed Finch while Sylvia closed the door behind him. He looked around the room. It was painted gold and had purple and pink scarves either tapped or stapled into the walls. Each doorway in the house was covering in beads and the room was dimmed. Finch stood and smiled.  
  
"Sylvia, we are here to see if you can help Steven," Finch said pointing at Stifler. Her friendly smiled faded.  
  
"You mean the un-trustworthy one?" she asked with sheer dullness in her voice. Finch nodded and smiled.  
  
"Yes, the un-trustworthy one. Let us go and sit and you can see if you can help me friend." Sylvia nodded and led them to the room behind the yellow beads. It was a plain room full of throw pillows. They all sat on one. Stifler faced Sylvia. The old woman crossed her arms and looked around dully.  
  
"What is your problem?" she asked, in a cold voice that she didn't use towards Finch. Stifler leaned forward a bit and made eye contact with her.  
  
"You see, my girlfriend dumped me last night because she thinks I don't understand woman and I think I do . . .I guess I'm asking you to help me understand girls," Stifler said with a grin. The old woman's face narrowed and she looked as if she were about to spit. Instead she began to laugh. Stifler's smiled faded and he leaned back onto the wall. Sylvia kept laughing and looked at Finch and pointed at Stifler.  
  
"Are you kidding me? You brought him here, for me to help him understand girls? I cannot believe you! I haven't had such a laugh in years . . ." Finch sighed and Jim looked at Stifler and shrugged.  
  
"Please, he is very needy and thinks he may love her," Finch said, lightly touching Sylvia's hand. The old woman stopped smirking and looked Stifler in the eyes.  
  
"The only way to understand girls is to be one." Stifler laughed.  
  
"Are you shitting me? I'm leaving," Stifler said getting up for the door.  
  
"Wonk ot deen yeht tahw dnatsrednu yeht litnu namow a eeht esruc nihtiw secrof eht yam!" Sylvia spat. Before Stifler could say, 'What the fuck?' his eyes became heavy and he fell into a hazy darkness. 


End file.
